


The Things I Want (But Don't Deserve)

by Malakia



Series: Naruto Drabbles and Short Stories [4]
Category: Naruto
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Light Angst, M/M, Obito in all his glory, Pre-Konoha Village, Pre-Relationship, Some pining, Sort Of, The Good the Bad and the Ugly - Freeform, Time Travel, accompanying picture, that I had commissioned, with denial too
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-09
Updated: 2018-11-09
Packaged: 2019-08-20 23:32:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,470
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16565216
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Malakia/pseuds/Malakia
Summary: Obito always wants what he can't have. He knows this. And since he does, he knows he doesn't deserve any of it. Not after what he has done.Even when he is sent to the past, he knows deep down that he doesn't deserve any of the kindness that is given to him. Yet that doesn't mean he can't want and wish though....





	The Things I Want (But Don't Deserve)

**Author's Note:**

> The accompanying picture that inspired this drabble is one I commissioned from [gentouparade](http://gentouparade.tumblr.com/)
> 
> If you like the style then go commission them! :D
> 
> All this from wanting to know what clothes these two were going to wear for the drawing. lol

 

A slow but wide grin pulled at Obito’s lips, even through his heavy breathing and sweat rolling down his face. He held still, muscles naturally tense, right arm out stretched with an open palm strike that had sent his opponent backwards.  

A few feet away, Hashirama was hunched over a little. His face was pained as he rubbed his stomach where Obito’s palm had hit. The Uchiha imagined it hurt even worse since the man wasn’t wearing his typical armor but black training clothes, like Obito wore, with red wrist guards and a red forehead protector.

“Ow,” the Senju hissed even as he smiled broadly. He turned his face upward, smile bright and warm as the sun. “That was a good hit!”

Obito chuckled. “Thanks,” he accepted as he lowered his arms. He felt his Mangekyou Sharingan powering down as he relaxed, while his left eye throbbed a little from his Rinnegan usage. It was taking time but he was starting to use both over an extended period of time without coming out with chakra exhaustion. 

If someone had told him that after his second, and supposedly final death, he would find himself back in pre-Konoha era with the powers and abilities of what he had before he became the ten-tail jinchuriki, he would have laughed himself sick. 

( _‘Only right after you had killed whoever told you,’_  a dark part of his mind supplied. Obito stubbornly ignored it.) 

But now here he was, living in the past, and having a friendly spar with Senju Hashirama, head of said clan and future Shodaime Hokage. The man had not only given his friendship but welcomed Obito into his clan, into the clan home- with much protest from Tobirama. The invitation had only come when the Senju had finally cornered him, after Obito had shown up many times to stop the battles between the Senju and the Uchiha clans. Apparently it impressed Hashirama at how Obito stopped people from killing each other by trapping them with Mokuton and then draining their chakra. 

(To be honest, it took everything Obito had in him not to kill any of them. It would have been the easier way. But he always won out over the instinct. Even when flashes of a dark night, a bright moon, and blood soaked ground made it hard to sometimes distinguish his current present from his past actions.)

Obito continued to smile, even as his heart clenched at the thought. “Are you alright?” he asked as he tried to push back his dark musings. He wasn’t that person anymore; he was better now. ( _‘Liar,’_  his mind cackled.)

“Of course!” Hashirama laughed as he stood straight. “It was a good strike and just caught me off guard for a moment!” He laughed loudly again as he rubbed the back of his head sheepishly. “No need to worry about me! I’ve handled worse!”

(Obito tried not to think of the dark history of Konoha. What Hashirama had to sacrifice in order to keep it standing and lasting. It made Obito remember hard dark eyes that tried to stop him from becoming the ten-tail jinchuriki. In the end it was useless and Obito had nearly killed the resurrected Hashirama more than once after the deed was done.)

The Uchiha hummed mindlessly. “I’m surprised too,” he began as he approached the other man, “that I even managed to hit you.”

Indeed, when the clan head had offered to train with Obito, not just with Mokuton but also help Obito try and control the Rinnegan, the Uchiha could barely land a hit on the formidable man. At full strength, even in a good-natured sparring matches, the man was a terrifying sight to behold. 

( _‘A man you tried to kill,’_  his mind taunted.  _‘A man who is turning you more into a monster and weapon in human skin.’_

And as long as it brought peace before everything terrible began than what did it matter?)

“It just means your getting stronger!” Hashirama praised.

Before Obito could even respond, the Senju reached out and brought him into a strong hug. The Uchiha yelped, stumbled, and caught himself with both gloved hands firmly against Hashirama’s chest.

Obito was stiff as he felt his cheeks grow warm and his smile dropped away. He still wasn’t used to touches that didn’t hurt and without ill intent. And Hashirama’s touches in particular made the Uchiha’s heartbeat pick up and throat grow tight with an unnamed emotion. 

( _‘You know what it is,’_  a lighter part of his mind quipped. A part that was slowly making itself known more and more each day.  _‘It’s the same reaction you had with Rin when you were younger!’_ )

When Hashirama pulled back, it wasn’t far. He placed his right hand on the Uchiha’s left shoulder while the other caught Obito’s elbow gently. The Senju kept their faces close together, giving Obito unadulterated access to Hashirama’s warm and friendly gaze.

“You should be proud of yourself,” the man continued to praise, tone gentler. He squeezed Obito’s shoulder. “Your hard work is really paying off.” He then smiled, closing his eyes as he did because of how big it got, and chuckled a little.

Obito’s wide eyed gaze softened, even as his cheeks were still warm and a little red, and his emotions a little torn. He found he couldn’t speak a moment but something light and warm unfurled and eased in his chest as he continued to look at Hashirama’s kind and encouraging gaze. 

Obito wanted to bask in it, to always be the cause of such of look. Because Obito was greedy and selfish, he wanted to bath in everything that made Hashirama, well,  _Hashirama._ Even if he didn’t understand fully why. 

But another part of him knew Hashirama deserved better than the broken and jagged thing the Uchiha was. Would get better when Konoha would finally be established. 

Still, while his left hand mimicked Hashirama’s hold on the clan leader’s elbow, his right hand continued to rest on Hashirama’s chest. Obito was torn on whether to push the other man away or curl his fingers in the fabric of the clothes and bring him closer.

( _‘And kiss him!’_  his lighter half laughed.  _‘Kissing is good!’_

Obito vehemently shoved the idea away.)

When Hashirama’s eyes opened again, Obito could hardly breath. There was just so much  _life_ and  _light_ in those orbs that it almost physically pained the Uchiha to look at it. 

Quickly, Obito ducked his head and lifted his right hand to cough into it to clear his throat. 

“We should head back,” Obito advised, voice strained as he took a step back from Hashirama. Now with more space between them, he felt comfortable enough and he looked back up with a small smile. “Your brother has probably thought I killed you, or something, by now.”

Hashirama guffawed. “It’s just because he doesn’t  _know_ you yet,” the other man replied with a wink.

Obito rolled his eyes. “If he hasn’t taken time to know me after so many months,” Obito retorted tartly with an impassive look, “than what makes you so certain he  _wants_ to?”

“He’s just shy,” Hashirama tried to explain and it almost made the Uchiha scoff. “He’ll warm up to you eventually.”

“Right,” Obito agreed but his tone was doubtful. He knew when to pick his fights. “Let me just grab our stuff and we can go.”

Before Obito could turn, Hashirama reached out and caught the Uchiha’s wrist. “Say,” Hashirama began, and Obito was thankful at how the clan head missed his breath catching for a moment at the touch. Rather than show how the simple touch affected him, Obito raised an eye brow at the Senju’s playful smile.

“Why don’t we race back home?” the man offered. “Last one back has to try and get Tobirama out of his study for dinner.”

Obito huffed, ignoring the warm sensation in his chest at how easily the other man included him in such a manner (even if he felt like he didn’t deserve it.) But trying to pry Tobirama from his scrolls was a chore in and of itself.

“Fine,” Obito still agreed, indulging in Hashirama’s game. He pulled his wrist free and turned away. “But when you lose, you can’t have Touka do it for you!” 

The resounding answer was Hashirama’s booming laugh. It made Obito bow his head a little, not even bothered to try and fight the small, fond smile that slipped onto his lips. 

With his back turned, Obito completely missed the look of complete longing and utter adoration that filled Hashirama’s face when he stopped laughing and gazed after the Uchiha. After a moment, the clan head silently sighed sadly, and shook his head before he plastered on his usual happy smile. He then quickly followed after Obito. 

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you all enjoyed it!
> 
> If you liked this, please feel free to check out my other works on here! 
> 
> If you just want to chat or whatnot, come chat to me here: [Malakia215](http://malakia215.tumblr.com/)


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